


Been Through the Mill

by Fluffypanda



Series: From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel 1872
Genre: Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Reunions, nothing really bad though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/pseuds/Fluffypanda
Summary: Steve came back to Tony.





	Been Through the Mill

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cap IM Tiny RB Round 2: Shellhead](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11439375) by [cap_ironman_event_mod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cap_ironman_event_mod/pseuds/cap_ironman_event_mod). 



> Written for Cap IM Tiny RB Round 2: Shellhead:
> 
> [original art on tumblr](http://capim-tinybang.tumblr.com/post/162746253798/cap-im-tiny-rb-round-2-shellhead) by [Caz](http://cazdraws.tumblr.com/)

Timely was quiet that night, aside from the wind on the desert and the distant yipping of coyotes. Tony sat on his back porch, staring into his bottle with only the light from the workshop and the stars above to see by. It, like its brethren by his feet, was disappointingly empty.

Tony had been doing well, supporting Red Wolf, Natasha, and all the rest, but it was coming up on six months since – well, since Fisk was taken out and the dam was destroyed, since Tony became Iron Man. Though the urge to drink had always been there, he’d made a name for himself, rebuilt his company, he’d even been what passed for happy.

Yet as time went on, Tony couldn’t help but remember why he put the suit on in the first place: He’d intended to die in it.

It hadn’t been about saving lives or taking back the town, not for him. Tony threw his head back and tried to relieve the bottle of any drops of whiskey he might have missed. No, it had been about a good man shot when his back was turned and thrown to the pigs.

Now it was long over and Tony was still here, the only thought keeping him going was that Steve would have liked Timely’s little band of do-gooders. As much as he wanted to hang up his fiddle, Tony owed it to Steve to make sure they didn’t meet the same fate.

Without the whiskey’s steady warmth, the cooling night air cut through the protection Tony’s clothes afforded him.  Shivering, he sighed and tossed his bottle in the pile with a clink.

“I heard you stopped drinking.”

Tony froze. He didn’t even dare to breathe. It was impossible; his drink must be playing tricks on him. He couldn’t have heard who he thought he heard.

The wood creaked as someone—Steve walked across the boards to sit next to Tony. He was just like Tony remembered, broad shoulders and hair like corn silk. His piercing blue eyes looked at Tony, unwavering. 

Tony closed his eyes. It reminded him too much of that one night more than two years ago, when Steve had given him that same look. He needed to get a hold of himself; just because he was a little boosy didn’t mean he needed to start hallucinating.

“Look at me, Tony,” Steve said and Tony felt a rough hand caress his cheek.

Eyes snapping open, Tony brought his hand up to cradle Steve’s. Warm skin, it was real, Steve was real. He had to be.

“Steve?” Tony said, voice quavering despite his best efforts.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

For several seconds, Tony sat there, his vision turning blurry, before he collapsed into Steve’s arms, weaving his own around Steve’s back. Suddenly the only thing that mattered was holding on to Steve and staying pressed up against that firm chest. Tony babbled something, but for the life of him he didn’t know what. Great sobs wracked his body as Steve gently rubbed Tony’s back and whispered reassuring nonsense.

“I’ve missed you” Tony said, when he could get a breath in and finally think again.

His hands absently gripped Steve’s clothes. Now that Tony looked, he saw that Steve was thinner than he had been and a little rougher around the edges. Tony’s fingers traced along a jagged new scar on Steve’s arm, one of many Tony suspected. The world hadn’t taken it easy on Steve in the time he’d been gone. It seemed like Steve could disappear at any moment, like this was nothing but an illusion, but maybe if he held on…

“I missed you too,” Steve sighed. “But I’m here now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary of Old West Slang:  
> Been Through the Mill - Been through a lot, seen it all.  
> Hang Up One’s Fiddle - To give up. The opposite would be to "hang on to one’s fiddle.”  
> Boosy - Fuddled or a little intoxicated
> 
>  from: <http://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-slang.html>
> 
> If I ever feel up to writing a sequel, I'll actually explain how Steve survived, because I actually thought about it.
> 
> [this fic on tumblr](http://ayapandagirl.tumblr.com/post/162994590823/c-im-tiny-reverse-bang-fic-1)  
> BTW I LOVE comments!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Loneliest Mile (The Threshing Floor Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13780773) by [Woad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woad/pseuds/Woad)




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